


let our hearts wander and  return to a person who feels like home

by philindas



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/M, Inspired by Game of Thrones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2018-12-07 23:26:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11634135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philindas/pseuds/philindas
Summary: Melinda has spent the last two years betrothed to one Coulson brother- but when he's murdered days before their wedding, finds herself instead marrying his younger brother, whom she barely knows. Phil is kind, but they only have days together before he must go south to fight while she travels to his northern home- her new home. She finds love blooms in unexpected places.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This is the Philinda-as-Nedcat AU I've always wanted to write but continued to push off. So I finally wrote it! I'm expecting five chapters, but we'll see what happens. Title is from a poem.

Her hands are shaking as she enters the sept.

Nothing about this is going how she’s envisioned it for the last nearly year and a half. When her parents had agreed to an alignment with House Coulson, she’d made peace with marrying the eldest son, Steve. He was strong, and brave, and would uphold the family name well after Robert Coulson passed on. And she, eldest daughter of William and Lian May of Riverrun, was perfect to align two of the biggest houses left unmerged by marrying him.

Steve was kind- he’d come to Riverrun many times to court her in the twenty moons they were betrothed. She’d shown him the river she and her sisters had played growing up, and most of her family home, trying to share funny stories of the havoc she and her siblings had caused. He’d half-listened, she could tell, too eager to talk about his own warrior prowess, so finally she’d ceded, letting him talk. He’d won many battles, he boasted to her as they strolled, their escort in the form of her governess Janet trailing behind them.

The last visit, about three moons before they were to be wed, Janet had been called to tend to some mischief Joy and Laurel had caused- and Steve had kissed her. She hadn’t been prepared, and the kiss was harsh and abrasive, hurting her mouth and her upper arms where he held her tightly. He’d grinned afterward before darting off to join his party returning north, unaware of the discomfort he’d inflicted.

It had been Steve’s younger brother, Phil, who had asked if she was alright as she’d walked in a daze to see them off. She’d nodded, not really hearing him, but comforted by the soft touch of his hand to her shoulder as he’d squeezed before going to follow his brother to the horses waiting for them. She’d waved a hand in farewell, and only Phil had waved back- Steve had been far too concerned with starting a race with their youngest brother, Tony, to pay much attention to her.

But just days before Melinda and Steve were to be wed, a massive battle broke out far South, and Steve led the party with his best friend and right hand soldier, Bucky. She’d begged him not to go, but he’d shaken his head as he sheathed his sword, checking his armor was secure. He’d barely said a word before he was off, and she’d watched, heart in her throat, as his form had disappeared.

The morning of what was meant to be her wedding, Riverrun received word that both Steve and Bucky had been killed in the battle by Hydra soldiers. She’d expected the wedding to be cancelled, but instead her mother had come in, wedding gown in hand, to tell her she was marrying the middle Coulson brother.

“Phil?” she’d asked as she was stripped of her bedclothes and helped into the itchy, pale green wedding gown that Janet and her mother had spent the last six months making and adjusting. Lian simply nods, starting to work on braiding her long, dark hair back into a complex updo, common of the Southern territories. She cannot for the life of her remember what Phil’s face looks like- she remembers a kind voice, and a hand on her shoulder, but nothing more.

“House Coulson still needs our alliance,” she told her daughter, pinning another section of hair into place. “You will marry Phil, who is now the heir. He must go to war in two days’ time, so let’s pray you become with child in that time, to cement your union.”

Nausea rolls through her, but she swallows down the bile that rises in her throat. This was her duty- and she would live the House May motto as best she could tonight. _Family. Duty. Honor._

She can see Phil’s form behind the gauzy wedding veil, and her grip on her father’s arm unconsciously tightens as they walk closer. He pats her hand once before they reach the dais, and Melinda steps up, standing across from Phil, the septon to her left. She takes a breath, and listens to the septon go through the traditional wedding vows, her heart in her throat.

Finally, clumsy hands pull the veil up, and she sees her husband clearly for the first time.

He’s plainer than Steve had been- a strong, square jaw and fair hair, but none of the captivating handsomeness of Steve. He gave her a shaky half-smile, and she squeezed his hands gently in hers, trying to quell the nerves lining her stomach as she looked at her husband. Her _husband_.

Melinda has no time to say anything to him before they’re whisked off to the wedding dinner- and in the Hall it’s too loud to have a real conversation amidst the music and dancing. By the end of a meal she barely touches, she has a headache pounding at her temples, and the hardest part of the evening hasn’t even begun yet.

Her mother and Janet take her to the wedding chambers to prepare, and her hands are shaking too badly to even take down her own hair.

“Do not be nervous, Qiaolian,” her mother tells her, batting her hands away and beginning to pull out the pins until her hair fell in raven waves down her back.

“Will it hurt?” she asked quietly as Janet turned down the bed, and Lian stops what she’s doing, meeting her daughter’s eyes in the mirror.

“Yes. But then it will be over,” Lian tells her, and Melinda uncurls her fingers from where her nails had been digging into her palms. “Soon it will not hurt so much- and eventually, you may even like it.”

Melinda frowns, but says nothing. She pulls the soft, blue nightgown on and settles on the bed as her mother and Janet leave. She’s never been more grateful they’d never upheld the tradition of the wedding night being viewed by others- at least her embarrassment will only be witnessed by her new husband.

She looks up at the knock, and Phil slips in, shutting the door behind him. He’s changed from his formal wedding tunic to a more worn gray one, left untied and sleeves loose. She tries to smile, but it must look more like a grimace because Phil settles at the foot of the bed and gives her a pained looked.

“I’m sorry,” are the first words her new husband speaks to her, and she looks at him in surprise. “I know you cared for Steve.”

“He was your brother,” she replies, shaking her head and reaching out until she can place her hand on his arm. “I know how much you loved him.”

Phil shrugged, dropping his gaze of his hands, and Melinda squeezes his arm gently.

“I promise I’ll take care of you,” he tells her, tentatively covering his hand with hers and looking up until he could meet her gaze. “I know I’m not- not what you expected, but I can provide for you, and give you a home.”

A small but genuine smile curved her lips, and Melinda nodded, lifting a hand to touch his cheek softly.

 _Perhaps I can care for him_ , she thinks to herself. _Maybe I could love him some day._

“Would you like to lie down?” she asks, clearing her throat- it would be better to just get it over with instead of dragging out the awkwardness of the first bedding. Phil nods hesitantly, toeing off his boots before he crawls up to lay beside her.

They stare at the ceiling, shoulders touching, until Melinda leans over, curtaining her hair around them as she bends to kiss him softly.

His lips are rough with stubble as they share their first kiss- it’s clumsy, an awkward meshing of lips, but he’s gentle with her, a hand coming up to cup the back of her head. Fingers weave through her hair, stroking gently, and she sighs as she sinks down until he can hover over her.

Unsure but strong hands paw at her dressing gown until together they lift it off- she shivers, crossing her arms over her chest as she flushes, and Phil rubs his hand over her skin.

“I’ll keep you warm,” he promises, and it’s almost sweet.

Her entire body feels stiff, but she forces herself to relax as Phil sheds his clothes, his skin rough against hers. He touches her gently, as though afraid she’ll break, and she finds some of the tension leave her body as he continues to kiss her. She loses herself in the motion of his mouth over hers, her hands on his shoulders, and sinks into the warmth of his body over hers.

She closes her eyes, and concentrates on the kiss as his fingers pull her smallclothes off before he tugs off his own, and he gently pries her thighs apart. She forces her breathing to even as he aligns them, and bites his lower lip as he pushes inside. He keeps his thumb against her clit, rubbing gently- but even the soft pleasure of that doesn’t outweigh the sharp pain she feels as he settles all the way inside her.

Melinda breathes out harshly, tense in his arms- but Phil doesn’t move until she relaxes, her nails no longer digging into his back.

It takes only a handful of thrusts into her, Phil giving a low grunt before he finishes inside her- the warmth is unfamiliar but not necessarily uncomfortable, and she finally uncoils her muscles entirely as he moves off of her. Blood dots the sheets, and Melinda swallows- but before she can say anything, Phil is up, pouring water from the pitcher by the bed onto a cloth.

“Can I…” he starts, and she nods, exhaling quietly as he carefully cleans her up. He leaves the blood on the sheets though- their parents will look for it in the morning, a sign of the consummation of their union.

“You can sleep in here,” she says around a dry tongue as he pulls on his tunic- he freezes, turning to face her. “You are my husband, after all.”

Phil gives a soft, rough laugh, and settles back down beside her, though he keeps space between their bodies. Melinda rolls onto her side, back to him, and falls into an uneasy but deep sleep, warm from the body heat Phil radiated.

She awakens wrapped in his arms, heat flooding her body at the feel of him aroused against her. It surprises her that she isn’t nearly as uncomfortable as she thought she would be, and as she turns to face him, wakes him up.

“I’m sorry-” he starts, but she cuts him off, shaking her head. She kisses him softly, lips quirking as her hands touch his chest.

“We should…” she trails off quietly, but Phil catches her meaning, and rolls her underneath him once more. The second time isn’t much less painful than the first, but she finds she likes the little growl in Phil’s chest as he finishes inside her, and the flood of warmth isn’t as uncomfortable as she’d thought it would be.

Phil leaves to clean and change, and Joy and Laurel spill into the room.

“Mama said we could help you take a bath,” Laurel beams up at her, and Melinda smiles, stroking her baby sister’s hair out of her face. She hadn’t even had her first blood yet- still a baby, and Melinda would have to leave her for Phil’s home, Providence, in only two weeks time.

“So is it strange?” Joy asks as they wait for the tub to be filled with hot water from the kitchens, and Melinda looks at her curiously. “To be married. Do you feel different?”

Melinda thinks about it, rubbing at her chin, before she shrugs.

“I suppose,” she answers. Joy and Laurel both look at her in awe, and she shoves at them both, shaking her head. “Stop looking at me like that, I’m no different than I was yesterday.”

Laurel giggled, and they helped her out of her dress and into the water- Melinda sank into the hot water happily, dunking underneath to wet her hair. Joy rubbed scented oil into her hair, carefully soaking the long, dark strands, and Melinda wrapped her arms around her legs, chin on her knee.

“Are you happy, Mellie?” Joy asks her after a moment. Melinda looks up, lifting a wet hand to touch her cheek and giving her a soft smile.

“I will be, Joy,” she answers. Her younger sister leaned into the touch, and Melinda leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Are you gonna have a baby, Mel?” Laurel asks, and Melinda frowns.

“I might. Why?” she asks, and Laurel shrugs.

“Mama said you could have a baby after you leave for Providence if you’re lucky,” she answered, and Melinda groaned.

“Don’t listen to Mama, Laurel,” she told her, tapping her sister’s nose. “If I do have a baby, you two will have to come visit me, okay?”

Both Joy and Laurel nodded, and Melinda smiled, letting them finish the bath before the water got too cold.

Once she’d dressed and dried her hair, Melinda found Phil near the river, watching the water. She took a moment to observe her husband- he’d changed into a deep blue tunic, and when he turned at her footsteps, she found it brightened the already-stunning color of his eyes.

“It’s beautiful,” he offers once she’s nearby, and she nods, smiling.

“My sisters and I grew up playing on these banks,” she tells him, and his eyebrows lift in interest.

“You can swim?” he asks, and she nods, amused.

“Can you not?” she asks, and Phil shakes his head.

“Providence isn’t really warm enough to swim, and there aren’t many rivers deep enough,” he tells her, and she frowns.

“Is it truly that cold?” she asks, worried, and Phil shrugs.

“It’s near enough to the wall there’s never truly a hot summer,” he answers as they begin to walk along the river slowly. “It’s nice weather though- it’s warm in the godswood year round.”

They continue to talk, and Melinda finds it far easier to speak with Phil than it had been with Steve- whereas his brother had spent more time boasting about his battles, Phil actually listened to her when she spoke. He laughed at stories of her sisters, and listened intently about her likes and dislikes when it came to food and music and dances.

Before Melinda even realizes it’s time for dinner- she sits beside Phil, Joy one her other side and Laurel beside Phil, chattering away the entire meal. Melinda hides her smile in her drink, but Phil seems content to listen, nodding and smiling. She watches, something warm filling her chest as he asks Laurel questions following her story about the kitchen cat giving birth to kittens a few weeks ago.

“I like him,” Laurel declares as Melinda helps her dress for bed later that night. Melinda smiles, smoothing the blankets over and bending to kiss her forehead.

“I think I like him too,” she whispers, drawing a sleepy giggle from her sister.

Phil is waiting in her chambers when she opens the door, and he jumps up, looking guilty.

“Joy told me I could wait here…” he starts, and Melinda smiles, shutting the door behind her.

“It’s alright,” she tells him, coming to sit beside him. “I like that you’re here.”

He gives a small, surprised smile, and cautiously takes her hand, weaving their fingers together. Melinda looks down at their fingers- his larger and calloused, fully encompassing hers- and finds it doesn’t look quite as out of place as she would have thought.

Phil takes her to bed again, and it’s not nearly as uncomfortable as the previous night, or the morning- she’s warm, and he is so impossibly gentle with her, hands roaming her skin with a little more confidence than before. It’s still vaguely unpleasant, but this time she rests her head on his chest after, palm over his heart as she drifted off to the steady beating.

Phil is awake when she rises to consciousness- his fingers are playing with her hair, and she finds she likes the unconscious, soothing motion.

“You leave today,” she whispers, and she feels Phil nod. Strangely, sadness fills her chest, and she swallows hard. “I don’t think I want you to go.”

“I must,” he murmurs, chest rumbling under her ear. “I have to honor my brother.”

“I know,” she replies, turning her head and propping her chin on her arm slung over his chest. Phil strokes a hand through her hair. “Will you write to me?”

“If you’d like,” he answered after a moment, surprised. “As much as I can from the front.”

“I’d like that very much,” she replies, and Phil gives a small smile.

“Tony and Maria will be waiting for you at Providence. They want you to feel at home, they’ll help however you need,” he starts, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I want you to feel comfortable there, Melinda. Make whatever changes you want, get to know the staff- please, make Providence your home.”

“I will,” Melinda tells him, reaching up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing along the beginnings of a beard. “Just…come back. Please.”

Phil looks at her for a long moment before he nods, covering her hand with his.

“I will, my lady.”

_

The morning is spent preparing Phil’s party for journey further south, to where the fighting is. Melinda spends it with her sisters, but finds her thoughts drifting towards her husband more often than not.

Less than three days together, and he was already consuming her thoughts in a way she’d never experienced before.

“It is time, Qiaolian,” her mother appears in the doorway, and Melinda stands with Joy and Laurel, heading for the front gate.

The war party is gathered, most of them on their horses, but Phil is on the ground, speaking with her father. He’s in a tunic of blue and gray, his House colors- their House colors, she corrects internally- and he looks almost as handsome as Steve had been. His face brightens at the sight of her, and blood flushes her cheeks pink as she unconsciously smiles.

“My lady,” Phil says, taking her hand, and she squeezes gently as her mother and sisters give them space.

“Be safe,” she tells him, and he nods, squeezing her fingers back. “I will look after Providence and await your return.”

“And I will write,” he says, and she smiles, slight but genuine. “Goodbye, Lady Melinda.”

“Goodbye, my Lord,” she murmurs; Phil bends to press his lips to her hand, lingering a few moments before he steps away, heading for his horse. She presses her hand to her chest, as though she can preserve the kiss.

She watches him ride away with the rest, and finds herself hoping- praying- he’d come back.

Melinda spends the next two weeks preparing for her journey north- Joy and Laurel help her back her things into trunks, and her mother and Janet present her with a dress in her new House colors, made of a thicker material more durable for the northern temperatures. Her mother presents her with the fish pin she’d envied as a child, the May House symbol.

“It’s yours now,” Lian tells her, pinning it to Melinda’s dress. “To remember us in your new home.”

“I could never forget you,” Melinda protests, and Lian gives a small, soft smile, touching her daughter’s cheek.

“You will have a house to run and a husband, and children someday,” Lian reminds her softly, tucking Melinda’s hair behind her ear. “But write. Please. Tell us of your life in the north.”

“Of course, Mama,” Melinda answers- Lian smiles before she steps back. Laurel is holding back tears, clutching onto William tightly, and even Joy’s eyes are shimmering. Melinda steps into the carriage after taking a breath, and watches her childhood home become a dark dot in the horizon and eventually disappear.

The journey north is uneventful- it takes nearly three weeks from Riverrun to Providence, so she contents herself with the book Joy had given her, and composing a letter to her friend Natasha, who lived in the capitol. In the time it takes to reach her new home, she receives a letter from her husband.

_My Lady Melinda,_

_I do not quite know what to write- I’ve never been very good at letters. But this was your wish, and my only desire is to make you happy. So, this letter._

The letter goes on to tell her about parts of his childhood- growing up as the second son, spending time with his younger brother and sister, learning to be a fighter. She smiles at the clumsy, crooked letters, obviously written by firelight- she can tell because parts overlap slightly in uneven ways, and she conjures up the image of her husband writing to her at night, surrounded by other soldiers.

She treasures the letter, and sends back her reply- a letter full of stories of her sisters’ mischief and growing up the eldest daughter of the Riverlands Lord. She sends it back to him with a messenger just a few days before the reach Providence, and hopes he writes back soon.

Providence is a well-sized, hulking household, with high walls and a large courtyard. Waiting for her are a boy and girl with dark hair- they can’t be much older than Laurel, and Melinda’s heart swells in her chest.

“Hi! I’m Tony, and this is Maria. Welcome to Providence, Lady May!” the boy says, before he frowns. “Wait. Lady Coulson?”

“You may call me Melinda. Hello Tony- Maria,” Melinda says as she descends from the carriage, smiling at them. “I’m happy to finally be here.”

“How was your journey?” Maria asks- Phil had told her she’d just had her tenth name day a few moons ago, and she lets the girl take her hand as they walk to the castle.

“It was fine- very long,” Melinda answers, pausing for a moment as her stomach rolled and her head began to feel faint. “In fact, I’d quite like to lie down for a bit, could you possibly show me to my rooms?”

“Of course!” Maria said, beaming up at her, and Melinda smiled around her nausea. “They’re right near where Phil’s are, he said he thought you’d like that.”

“I do,” Melinda answers, pleasure building in her chest as Maria guides her through the stone hallways to where her new chambers lay. They were in the heart of the castle- they’d passed the nursery on the way, something flip-flopping in her chest at the sight of it- and Maria pointed out where Phil’s rooms were as they passed.

“Here!” Maria called happily, opening the heavy wooden door and revealing a large set of rooms- nearly three times the size her room at Riverrun had been. “I can wake you for dinner if you’d like? We have a feast for you!”

“I would like that, thank you Maria,” Melinda tells her, touching her cheek gently and smiling. Maria beams, cheeks pink- she darts off as Melinda slips into the room. Shivers run down her spine at how cool it was in the halls of the castle, but as she stepped into the rooms, a heat swept over her. She frowned, stepping further into the room and closing the door behind her.

She knelt, touching the stone, shocked to find them warm to the touch. She would have to ask Maria or Tony at dinner what was causing it, but for now, she was too exhausted and nauseous to care about much beyond slipping under the furs on the bed.

Bundled under the furs, Melinda feels herself begin to drift off, comfortable and warm. She’s on the brink of sleep when she frowns, doing the math in her head, and she sits up, gasping softly. She counts back in her head one more time to be certain, but instinctively she already knows.

She should have had her moonsblood while on the road to Providence, but there had not been a single day she’d awoken to blood in her smallclothes. Her mother had told her to watch out for nausea and tiredness- both tended to be signs of pregnancy.

Melinda slides a shaking hand to her waist, swallowing hard as her heart races in her ears. She couldn’t be certain- not for another few weeks, that she knew, before a maester could confirm her suspicions. But part of her knew; part of her was certain.

In the short time she and Phil had laid together, they’d created a child. And now, all alone, away from her family, away from her husband, in a place where she knew no one, she was pregnant.

Melinda slides further under the furs, hands pressed tight over her stomach, and closes her eyes until exhaustion finally overtook her and she drifted off to sleep.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melinda adjusts to life at Providence, and exchanges letters with Phil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly a Melinda chapter with only scattered Philinda, but I promise it's worth it! I hope you enjoy it, let me know what you think!

Melinda spends most of her celebration dinner in a daze- she smiles at Maria and Tony, and the flurry of people she’s introduced to, but she’s tired and sore and nauseous. She picks at her food as her head pounds, the volume of the music increasing as more and more people begin to drink.

She excuses herself when Maria and Tony leave to go to bed- she nearly gets lost trying to find her room, but manages to double back when she stumbles across the nursery.

Maria had told her it was empty as they’d passed earlier, so she slips inside.

Empty cradles are pushed against the far wall, and a bright field of flowers is painted beside a window, the glass misted in the cool night air. She looks around the high stone walls and her breath catches in her chest- her children will sleep in this room. Grow up in these walls. Call this castle home.

For a moment, her heart aches so badly for Riverrun she has to squeeze her eyes shut tightly, hands in fists at her sides. When she relaxes, she lets out a deep breath, looking at the moon through the window, and wonders if Phil was looking up at that moment.

She brushes the thought away and slips away to her bedroom, curling up under the furs and shutting out the world.

Her new life starts the next day, and she finds herself unexpectedly busy.

She’s introduced to Peggy, who’d been running Providence since Robert Coulson had gone South with his son to fight. The inner workings of the castle are harder than Melinda had anticipated; Riverrun was half the size of Providence, and she’d barely understood how her mother kept track of everything there.

“You’ll be fine- you’re sharp. I know you’ll catch on quickly,” Peggy assures her when she catches sight of Melinda’s wide eyes and pale face. She pats her hand before pointing across the courtyard. “The stables are there- Phil’s gotten a new horse, just for you.”

Melinda turns her head at that, surprised, and Peggy smiles.

“I believe it’s a wedding present,” she tells her as they walk towards the stable. “She arrived this morning.”

Standing in the first stall is a beautiful black mare- she’s taller than any of the horses they’d had at Riverrun, and her coat was dark as the night sky, with only a single white spot on her back. Melinda approaches slowly, and the horse drops her head until she can sniff at Melinda’s palm before nuzzling into it.

“She’s beautiful,” Melinda said in awe, stroking her hands over the horse’s neck. Upon closer inspection, the white spot is almost shaped like a bird, and Melinda passes her fingertips over it gently. “Does she have a name?”

“She can be called whatever you like,” Peggy tells her, and Melinda thinks for a moment, studying the horse before she answers.

“Zephyr,” she answers after a moment. “Like the wind- because of the bird mark.”

“Then Zephyr she will be,” Peggy replies, a soft smile playing around her lips as she watched the younger woman stroke the horse.

_My Lord,_

_Thank you for the horse. She’s beautiful._

Melinda looks at the start of her newest letter to Phil and swallows hard. Her gaze drops to her lap, and her heart beats a little faster in her chest as she contemplates telling him her suspicions.

In the end, she doesn’t want to disappoint him should she be wrong, or should something happen- so she merely thanks him for Zephyr, and tells him about learning her way around Providence. She mentions how helpful his younger siblings have been- Maria in particular loved telling her all about the castle, and the people in it.

When she gives the postmaster her letter the next day to send out, there’s a letter waiting for her from her husband, and her heart speeds up suspiciously as she takes it with a small smile.

_My Lady,_

_It is far too warm here in the South- I find myself longing for the cool walls of Providence._

_I hope your gift has arrived by now, and I hope you like her. She’s a year old, the firstborn of two of the King’s best horses._

Melinda smiles, fingers tracing over the looping letters of her husband’s handwriting. She can practically feel his nervousness through the letters, and it floods her chest with unexpected warmth. He tells her they haven’t seen much fighting yet, and it relieves something inside her, to know he isn’t in danger.

The rest of Phil’s letter details his journey and some of the men he was traveling with- a wise-cracking archer, a warrior from the Southern Isles, and a man of alchemy with metal gauntlets. Melinda finds herself fascinated by this Clint, Thor, and Tony, and she’s almost disappointed when the letter ends with Phil telling her he’d write when they reached their next checkpoint.

“Melinda!” she looks up at Maria’s voice, smiling as the young girl races up to her. “Peggy said I could find you here, do you want to have lunch with me?”

“Lunch sounds perfect,” she answers, letting Maria help her to her feet. Tiny fingers wrap around hers, and Maria leads her to the kitchens.

“Phil said you have two younger sisters,” Maria says as they settle at one of the stone tables, and two bowls of soup are placed in front of them with two pieces of bread. Melinda nods, tearing a piece of bread off.

“Joy and Laurel. Laurel’s a little older than you are,” Melinda tells her, and Maria smiles shyly. “She loves to paint. She spends hours down by the river.”

“I wish I knew how to paint,” Maria lamented, poking at her soup, and Melinda smiled.

“I could show you. Laurel taught me a few things,” she suggested, and Maria nodded eagerly.

“I’d love that! Will you have time? Tony said you would be busy with Peggy,” Maria suddenly looks nervous, and Melinda squeezes her hand gently.

“I can make time for my new sister,” she assures her, and Maria’s cheeks turn pink as she drops her gaze shyly.

The next few weeks are filled with learning the weights and measures of Providence from Peggy- she catches on quickly, much to her relief- painting with Maria, walking the grounds with Tony and spending time with Zephyr at the stables. Another letter from Phil comes, explaining that they’d reached the edge of the fighting, so his letters would be less frequent.

The morning his letter arrived, she went to see the maester. She’d passed her third month without her moonsblood, and she’d noticed other things- certain smells were heightened, her breasts were tender to the touch, and she was nauseous nearly every morning.

“Your suspicions were correct- you’re pregnant, Lady Coulson,” Maester Pym confirms, and Melinda feels all the breath leave her lungs. She’d known, deep down, but something shifts at the confirmation.

“Oh,” she whispers, blinking rapidly as her hand slid down to her stomach. Nothing was different than she could feel, but it felt as though her entire world had been shifted on its axis.

_Pregnant._

“I’ll tell the kitchens- they’ll adjust your meals accordingly,” the maester continues, and Melinda forces herself to listen. “I’d like to check on you every few weeks, to be sure everything’s going smoothly. First babes are usually rather easy, though, and you’re quite healthy. I have no worries.”

Melinda twitches her lips in a smile and nods before she excuses herself. She walks down the hall as slowly as she can make herself, rounding the corner and stopping, pressing back into the wall. For once she’s grateful for the cold stones- her skin feels too hot, too tight over her bones, and she closes her eyes, chest heaving.

For one bright, shining moment, she misses her mother more than anything. She misses the comfort of her firm embrace, the strength of her hand at her back. She misses Riverrun, her family- she misses her home.

 _Providence is your home now_ , she reminds herself, but that merely makes tears prick at the corners of her eyes, and she covers her face in her hands, trying to breathe deeply.

“Lady Coulson?” she struggles to school her features at the sound of Peggy’s voice, wiping at the tears that had trailed down her cheeks. “Is something wrong?”

“Oh- no, no not at all,” she answers, shaking her head and gathering herself up. “I’ve just been to see the maester.”

“Are you sick?” the older woman asks, and Melinda shakes her head, swallowing.

“Not exactly. I’m pregnant,” she replies, and the breath rushes out of her body at saying the words out loud for the first time. Peggy’s eyes widen before she smiles softly, reaching to touch Melinda’s arm.

“Congratulations. Phil will be overjoyed,” she tells her, and Melinda’s lips part.

“You think so?” she asks, and Peggy nods, squeezing her arm gently.

“He loves children. He’ll make a good father,” she assures her, before glancing up at the sound of her name being called. “I must go- go get some rest. We’ve no need for lessons today.”

Melinda nods, watching her go, before she heads to her room. Shutting the door behind her, she contemplates the bed before deciding to settle at the desk, pulling out a new sheet of parchment.

_My Lord,_

_I write with good news, and I pray you haven’t seen much fighting as of late- that you are safe._

_I write to tell you we are having a child. The maester confirmed my suspicions this morning, and your heir shall be born come springtime._

Melinda sets the quill down when she realizes how badly her hand is shaking. Ink splatters on the page, and she takes a deep breath, closing her eyes.

She slides one hand down to rest over her middle, opening her eyes to look at the yet unchanged part of her body.

Melinda admitted to herself she was terrified. She’d pushed the fear down until her pregnancy had been confirmed, but she felt the crushing weight of terror pushing on her shoulders in full force. She missed her mother, her sisters, her father- the green of Riverrun and the blue of the river.

But deep down, buried beneath all that, Melinda missed Phil. In their short time together she’d found him captivating, and his letters only strengthened whatever feeling she had inside her. She wanted to know him- but she wanted to know him beyond their written words. She wanted to see his face when he spoke, watch the way his hands moved when he talked about things important to him, wanted to watch the color rise in his cheeks when he embarrassed himself.

Her head spun with the heaviness of the day, and she slid beneath the covers of her bed, pulling them over her head.

The next weeks seem slip through her fingers like water. Running Providence becomes easier and easier as she learns the servants and the commonfolk, and Peggy encourages her to do what she deems best to fulfill their requests. She spends time teaching Maria to paint- the young girl had natural talent, and Melinda enjoyed the hour they spent on the castle wall, painting the landscape together. Melinda’s time with Tony was spent inventorying the armory, and learning more about the youngest Coulson son. Any other free time she spent with Zephyr, or waiting for a letter from Phil.

The letter she’d sent telling him of her pregnancy had gone unanswered, and Peggy had received word from her man in the capitol that the fighting had gotten more intense. It left a hot ball of worry in the center of Melinda’s chest, especially as she found her waistline expanding more and more as weeks turned to months.

“Lady Coulson!”

She looks up from her book and awkwardly stands- she was still getting used to having a different center of gravity and being unable to see her own feet. The courier rushes to her side, handing her a thin piece of parchment.

“This came from the capitol, my lady. Mistress Carter sent me to you immediately,” he tells her, and she curses the way her heart leaps in her chest. _Phil_.

The young boy excuses himself, and she carefully sinks back down into her seat as she unfurls the paper.

_My Lady,_

_I apologize for the long wait between letters. Fighting has increased, and my hand was injured in one of the battles. Writing is harder than it used to be with fingers that refuse to bend properly. It’s hard for letters to reach us as the front has expanded- I can only pray this letter actually reaches you._

_It seems to have no end in sight, and I fear I must confess I tire of the endless battles. I wish to return home. And, more boldly- I wish to return to you. I have received no letters since your letter detailing Zephyr’s settling in at Providence, and I find myself missing your words._

_I hope you are well, and Providence feels more like home than before._

_Yours, Phil_

He’d never received her letter about the pregnancy, she realizes as she reads, heart beating in her ears. He doesn’t know they were having a child.

Her hand dropped to her stomach, the curve nearly as big as her palm now, and she knows no letter would reach her husband before their child was born.

Her eyes widen as a soft movement inside her occurred, and the breath left her lungs as she realized what was happening. She rubbed her side gently, the motion happening again, and it felt like light inside her, warming her up. Melinda’s lips curved into a small smile.

“Hello my love,” she whispered, voice thick with emotion. Another kick followed her words, and Melinda looked at the letter once more. Peggy’s words echoed in her mind. _Phil will be happy when he returns to find we have a child. I know he will._

“All the signs say you’re having a boy, Lady Coulson,” Maester Pym assures her a few weeks later as he checks her over. Her back aches constantly these days, which he informs her is a sign it’s nearly time.

“Thank you, Maester Pym,” she replies with a smile, heaving herself off the table and getting to her feet, catching her breath before she left his chambers. Every part of her hurt and felt swollen to two times its size- she knew her ankles and feet were swollen since her own shoes didn’t fit; she’d ended up stealing a pair of Phil's from his chamber.

She’d taken to sleeping in his chambers in the last weeks of her pregnancy- every part of her was warm, constantly, and her chambers with the internally-heated floors were sweltering. Phil’s chambers were cooler, and sleeping was easier for her there. And part of her liked feeling closer to him, especially as she drew closer to giving birth. She could easily admit part of her missed him- she hadn’t received a letter from him since the one telling her fighting had grown worse.

“Does it feel weird?” Maria asked one day as she and Melinda sat in the library one day to escape the springtime heat. Melinda looked up from where she’d been pressing against her side, a foot pushing out against her skin.

“Sometimes. He’s running out of room,” she tells her sister-in-law, the brunette’s eyes widening. “Maester Pym said any day now.”

“Are you scared?” she asked in a quiet voice, and Melinda tucked some hair out of her eyes, smiling softly as she nodded.

“A little bit. But then he’ll be here,” she answers, and Maria smiles, leaning into her palm.

Melinda winced, curling in on herself as the breath was pushed from her lungs, and Maria leaned forward in concern.

“Melinda? Are you okay?” she asked, voice high, and Melinda nodded, exhaling sharply as she sat back up.

“I’m fine. I think we should get Maester Pym though,” she replied, panting a little. “I think it’s time.”

_

Birth is more painful than Melinda had ever experienced. More than the broken arm when she was seven, or the deep cut along the underside of her foot when she was ten. More than any fever, any moonsblood, more than any heartbreak.

Her labor lasts through two nights, a cycle of pain and release and aching, until finally, as the third day dawns bright and yellow, it ends.

Her world centers to the high-pitched cries- the pain between her legs disappears, the ache of her abdominal muscles stops, and all she can focus on is the child Maester Pym settles on her chest.

“A girl,” he tells her as she lifts a shaking hand to cup the back of her daughter’s damp head as she squirms. “Perfectly healthy- a good set of lungs on her.”

Melinda can’t stop looking at her- dark hair coated the top of her head, pink lips parted in a cry and fists flying. She’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen- and she made her. She has a fleeting fear Phil will be angry she’s not a son, but then she’s distracted by her daughter nuzzling into her skin.

The midwife takes the infant to clean her off as Maester Pym has her push again, another sharp pain passing through her before all she feels is a dull, throbbing ache throughout her body that she dismisses, looking at her daughter. He has Melinda sit up, and the midwife brings her cleaned daughter to her, settling her in her arms. Her dressing gown is lowered, and the infant roots around until she can latch onto her breast, and the strangest sensation comes from her sucking.

“Do you have a name, Lady Coulson?” Peggy asks, and Melinda looks down at her daughter, brushing a finger over her soft cheek, studying her for a moment before she answers.

“Daisy,” she tells her, looking up. It had been her favorite flower to grow on the riverbanks- it reminded her of Riverrun. Providence was her home now, but her daughter would have a name that reminded her of the place she’d grown up. “Her name is Daisy.”

Melinda spends the next days enthralled with her daughter. She’d never felt love like this in her entire life, and it overwhelms her.

Mostly, she wishes Phil were here- to meet their daughter, to watch her grow with her. She can see Phil in some of Daisy’s features- in her ears, in the curve of her yawn.

“Melinda- Melinda!” Maria’s panting when she pushes into Melinda’s room, and Melinda looks up from where she’d been watching Daisy sleep. “Melinda, the courier just came back- the fighting is done. They beat the Mad King.”

Melinda’s eyes widen, and her lips part. Maria’s eyes are bright with excitement, and Melinda feels her heart beat faster in her chest. Warmth spills down her spine at Maria’s next words.

“Melinda- Phil is on his way back. He should be here at Providence within a fortnight. He’s finally coming home!”

For one unmistakable moment, Melinda knows the feeling that swells inside her. It is, without a doubt- _love_.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil returns to Providence, and falls in love with his daughter. And Melinda begins to learn more about her husband.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going with the Jon storyline in this AU- I honestly didn't want to and I couldn't work it into this universe in a way that made sense, so I just didn't include it! I don't think that disappoints anyone, but I'm sorry if it does. Enjoy this chapter!

Providence hums with activity for the next two weeks.

Melinda spends most of it ensconced away with Daisy- she still felt weak and fatigued from giving birth, which Maester Pym said was common with first babes. Maria visits often, enthralled by her infant niece, and Melinda watches her hold Daisy with a small, if not somewhat sad, smile. She’d written to Riverrun to inform her family of Daisy’s birth, and suggested they visit- though she knows it’s not likely, given the travel time and the newly won war.

She’s just finished feeding Daisy, the baby nearly asleep at her breast, when there’s a soft, hesitant knock. She bids them enter, adjusting Daisy in her arms, and only looks up from her sleeping face at the soft gasp- before she lets slip a gasp of her own.

“You’re home,” she whispers, mindful of her sleeping daughter as Phil shuts the door silently behind him, hesitantly stepping closer.

“Is that…” he starts, and Melinda nods, motioning for him to come closer until he stood at the bedside. “We…”

“Her name is Daisy,” she answers, and a swirl of nerves starts inside her as the fear that he’d be disappointed Daisy wasn’t a boy or that he’d hate the name she’d chosen for their daughter grows at his silence.

But then Phil lifts his face, eyes the color of the river are brimming with tears, lips hidden by an unfamiliar beard lifting in an awed smile.

“She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs, and relief rushes through Melinda’s veins as she watches him slowly drop his hand until he could stroke over the top of Daisy’s head, over the soft, dark hair.

“I’m- I’m sorry. That she’s not a boy,” she whispers after a moment, but Phil’s shaking his head, one rough hand gently cupping her cheek until she looked at him.

“You’re…alright? It went well?” he asks instead, and Melinda nods, unconsciously leaning into the touch, memorizing the calloused palm against her skin.

“It was long, but Maester Pym said everything went perfectly. By next moon I should be healed,” she answers, and Phil nods in understanding, thumb stroking her cheek like an afterthought as he looks at her. Melinda lifts her own hand, stroking through the beard covering his face, the coarse hair bristling under her palm.

“I’ll shave,” Phil starts, but Melinda shakes her head.

“I think I like it,” she answers, before her eyes widened and she dropped her hand, eyes focusing back on Daisy, who shifted sleepily in her arms. “I’m sorry that was- that was forward of me.”

“I don’t mind, my Lady,” Phil corrected her gently, and she looked up at him. “We have a daughter. I think we’re beyond formal.”

Melinda gave a small nod at that, lips quirking into a smile. Daisy chose that moment to let out a loud, startling cry, and Melinda started to rock her gently, soothing her. When her cries had been reduced to whimpers, Melinda looks up at her husband.

“Would you like to hold your daughter?” she asks, and Phil’s face pales slightly before he nods. Melinda manipulates his arms, like she does with Maria and Tony, and carefully nestles Daisy in them, against his chest. Their infant daughter squirms for a moment, face screwing up, before she settles down and nuzzles Phil’s shirt, sighing softly.

“She’s so much smaller than I expected,” he whispers, face shaded in awe, and Melinda can’t help the smile her lips curve into.

“She’ll grow,” she promises, watching him stroke one fingertip over Daisy’s small, soft cheek.

“She truly is perfect, my Lady,” Phil tells her, looking down at her with such a serious look on his face it causes her cheeks to flush pink, startled by his intensity. “Thank you. For her.”

There’s no simple response she can give, so she merely ducks her head and smiles, and watches him fall as in love with their daughter as she was.

When Daisy starts to fuss, signaling it was time for a real nap, Melinda shows Phil how to properly lay her in the cradle she’d had moved into her room for the first few moons. He leaves with a tentative kiss brushed to her hair, and warmth flutters through her belly.

The next few weeks are Providence adjusting to their new Lord returning. Robert Coulson had been lost in the battle, so Phil was the new head of Providence, and Counsel of the North. He was the official head of the territories from Providence to the Wall, and Lawmaker for the North.

Melinda could see how heavily the new responsibilities weighed on her husband- he hadn’t been trained for this, he’d spent his life learning to be the second son, to be the one constantly in battle. He hadn’t learned the things Steve had as the oldest, and Melinda finds herself helping Phil with the day-to-day tasks when she could, especially as Daisy grew older and less dependent on her.

“Ready, my Lady?” she looks up at Phil’s voice, and nods, wrapping another blanket around Daisy before she lifts her, and nestles her in the sling Tony had designed for her. It let her hold Daisy close to her body but kept her hands free, and it allowed her to help Phil more but keep her daughter close.

“So, what are you showing us?” she asks as they leave the castle, and Phil guides them to a path that takes them outside the high walls.

“I thought I’d show you some parts of Providence I’m sure my brother and sister hadn’t thought to show you,” he tells her, before smiling down at Daisy, who peered up at them with wide, curious brown eyes.

Melinda smiled, catching his fingers and squeezing gently before they walked on, passing by a grove of trees before the land began to slope downwards a little. Phil offered his arm to keep her steady, and she gripped him tightly, finding her footing after a moment.

“It’s beautiful out here,” Melinda comments, looking at the sunlight filtering through the leaves and dappling the ground in spots of orange and yellow amongst the fallen leaves. Phil nods, lips curved into a small smile.

“I loved growing up here,” he tells her, leading her to the right. “I want you and Daisy to be comfortable here, to know these lands as well as I do.”

“She’ll be happy here, my Lord. I promise,” Melinda can’t help but assure him, placing her hand on his forearm. Phil looks at her, and Melinda can see the anxiety shaded in the now-familiar blue, and she lifts her hand to his cheek, feeling the rough of the beard he’d kept- though now trimmed- against her palm. “And I am happy here already.”

At that Phil smiled, and Melinda kept her hand at his elbow as they walked, her other at Daisy’s back. Their daughter continued to look around curiously, and outright laughed at a pair of rabbits that darted across their path. Melinda stopped at that, wide-eyed.

“She’s never laughed before,” she said in awe, looking at Phil, whose face mirrored hers. “That was her very first laugh.”

Phil let out a laugh of his own at that, and Melinda beamed, brushing her thumb over Daisy’s cheek, drawing another tiny giggle from the baby. When she looked at Phil again, she felt such a deep-seeded joy inside her; a happiness she knew she could tend to and grow with this man. If he wanted it- if that was the future he pictured too.

They continue to walk, Phil pointing out places he’d played as a child- where Tony had broken his arm when he was five, and where Steve had snuck out to fight with one of the kitchen boys when they were teenagers. Daisy continues to shower them with giggles, content to look around her surroundings with wide eyes and pink cheeks.

When the return to the castle, Daisy near dozing and Melinda herself tired enough for a nap, Phil presses a chaste kiss to her cheek before dropping one to Daisy’s head, and bids them farewell to tend to something with Peggy. Melinda lays Daisy down for a nap in the nursery, Septa Danvers watching over her, and lays down herself- she only means to nap for a few moments, but finds the sky dark when she finally awakens.

It’s passed dinner, she can tell by the quiet of the castle, so she finds herself walking to Phil’s room- Daisy would be down for the evening, and it had been a good day. She wanted to continue the feeling of lightness inside her.

His voice bids her enter when she knocks, and she finds him reading a parchment by the fire, his tunic loose and belt discarded over the chair by his desk.

“My Lady- are you alright? You slept through dinner, but I didn’t want to wake you. I know you’ve been sleeping less because of Daisy,” concern creases Phil’s face, and Melinda lays a hand on his arm, giving him a soft smile.

“I’m fine- just tired. It was a wonderful day today,” she assures him, and Phil’s shoulders loosens as he sets the parchment in his hand aside to cup her elbow.

“I’m glad, my Lady,” he replies, and Melinda’s lips quirk.

“You know you don’t have to keep calling me that,” she tells him lightly, and his eyebrows contract in confusion. “We have a child. You can call me Melinda, my Lord.”

“Only if you call me Phil, then,” he requests, and Melinda smiles, nodding. His own lips curve into a grin, and Melinda steps a little closer, beginning to undo the strings of his tunic.

“Maester Pym said everything is healed,” she starts softly, but Phil catches her meaning easily- after looking into her eyes for a moment, he bends his head, mouth meeting hers.

The beard scratches her chin, but Melinda kisses him back, tugging at his shirt until he got the hint and pulled it over his head- they separated so he could remove it, but Melinda stops once she sees his chest.

“Is this from the war?” she asks softly, fingers tracing over a jagged line near his heart, almost fully healed. Phil nods, a little unsteady, and Melinda bends to press her lips to it. “I’m glad you came home.”

 _To me_ is her unspoken addition, and Phil’s fingers only fumble slightly at the laces of her dress- it drops to the floor, and she feels her cheeks flush as sudden self-consciousness floods her. Her body had changed, with carrying Daisy, and Phil hadn’t seen it in months.

But his calloused palms slide over her skin, and he kisses her a little harder as he backs her up to the bed. She slides up until her head hits the pillows, and Phil slides his trousers to the floor before he joins her.

His room is cold, but Phil’s skin is warm as it slides over hers, and Melinda kisses him as his palm slides up her side to cup her breast. The tenderness that had come with feeding Daisy had passed now that their daughter was mostly eating solid food, and his thumb caught her nipple, sending a rush of heat she’d never felt before to the pit of her stomach.

His touch is surer than before he’d gone to war, and some of the heat extinguishes at the thought that he’d slept with someone else while away. It was normal- encouraged, even, in many war camps, she knew. But she wanted Phil to be… _hers_ , if she were to be that bold.

Phil distracts her with another kiss, and Melinda lets herself be pulled into the sensation- she sinks into the bed as he lifts her leg around his hip, familiar heat and pressure building inside. She pressed her face into his neck, feeling the familiar warmth as he finished, and closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of his skin.

He slid to the side but kept her close, carding his hands through her hair, and the motion lulled her into a near sleep, cheek pressed to his chest.

“I should return to my room,” she murmured, half-asleep, but she felt Phil shake his head.

“Stay,” he asked softly, and Melinda nearly did- but the thoughts from earlier crept back up, and the fear that should something happen to Daisy they wouldn’t come to Phil’s room first combine to rouse her enough to slide from the bed.

“I should return to my room. In case they need me for Daisy,” she answers, shrugging back into her gown and doing the laces up loosely. “Goodnight, my Lord.”

Phil nodded, pulling the furs up to his chest, and Melinda slipped out of the room to pad back to hers, shivering in the cold hallway. Part of her _wanted_ to return to his arms- wanted to sink into the warmth of his embrace and fall asleep listening to his heartbeat. But despite sharing a child, despite feeling deep affection and trust- she didn’t _know_ him.

Melinda falls asleep beneath her furs, somehow still cold, and vows to fix that.

But Phil is surly and distant the next few days, so Melinda spends more time with Daisy, listening to her start to babble nonsense and clap her hands happily whenever she saw her mother. She’d started to attempt to crawl- she at least got on her knees, though she tipped forward more often than not. Melinda couldn’t believe how fast her daughter was growing- the weeks seemed to slip by.

Phil came to her room occasionally- teasing her for how warm she needed the room to be, and opening the windows to let the cool air in once they’d finished. But he never asked to stay the night, and often left her with simply a chaste kiss to the top of her head.

It’s nearing Daisy’s first name day when Melinda realizes it’s been nearly two moons without bleeding. A year living at Providence with Phil- a year of watching her daughter grow and change. A year of watching her husband fall in love with the child they’d created.

She doesn’t quite know if they’re ready for another child- Daisy was a rambunctious handful, having learned to crawl. She kept Septa Danvers on her toes, and amused Phil endlessly- she liked nothing more than being in her father’s arms, high above everyone else.

“I think she had a good day,” Melinda says as they slip out of the nursery, their daughter finally asleep. Phil nods, a hand at her back, as he guided her to his room, and Melinda allowed herself to be led.

“Everyone loves her,” Phil reminds her, lips curling into a smile, and Melinda nods, softening.

“She has the entire castle wrapped around her tiny little fingers,” she replies, poking him in the chest. “Including you. You realize she’s not old enough to care for that puppy by herself, right? Poor Septa Danvers.”

“Tony and Maria will help- they always wanted a dog,” Phil assures her, slipping through the laces of her dress, kissing her neck. Melinda sighed, leaning back into his embrace, and when his arms slid around her waist, figured now was as good a time as any to tell him what Maester Pym had confirmed this morning.

“I have something to tell you,” she begins softly, turning to face him and placing her palms on his chest. Phil’s eyebrows contract, and Melinda lifts a finger to smooth out the creases. “I went to the maester this morning.”

“Are you sick?” Phil asks, concern lacing his voice, and Melinda shook her head, lips curving into a smile.

“No, Phil. We’re having another baby,” she tells him, taking one of his hands and sliding it over her middle. His mouth opened, blue eyes wide in surprise, and she can’t help the small laugh that bubbles up.

“Another baby?” he manages to whisper, and Melinda nods, free hand stroking through his hair. Phil surged forward, kissing her fiercely, and Melinda gasped before she kissed him back, letting him pull her to him.

They break apart, gasping, and Melinda’s a little lightheaded, but beaming.

“Maybe it’ll be a boy this time,” she says, and Phil merely smiles, stealing another kiss.

“It doesn’t matter, as long as they and you are healthy,” he replies, and Melinda allows him to tug her into a hug. She pressed her nose to his collarbone, allowing her eyes to close.

They could do this. She could put her insecurities about his time at war aside; could put her worries on the back burner. It would be okay- _they_ would be okay.

She had to be sure they were.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melinda's second pregnancy progresses, and she and Phil grow closer as they watch Daisy grow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay with this chapter (this is a theme with me, I really am sorry!), but I hope this chapter makes up for it! I appreciate everyone reading this story- your support means the world! Let me know what you think.

Her second pregnancy is harder than her first.

She’s sicker than with Daisy- not just in the mornings, but all hours. Day and night she feels nauseous- to the point that Maester Pym made her a drink of herbs to take so she wasn’t spending all her time throwing up.

Phil was more worried than she’d ever seen him- he spent all the time he could with her. She tried to tell him it wasn’t necessary- she could handle being nauseous. It would pass in a moon or two, and Providence needed him to lead them.

“I’d rather be here with you,” he tells her as they sit on the tile floor- the cool stone of his rooms felt like bliss on her skin, and Melinda slid her fingers into his, squeezing gently.

“This is normal. I promise,” she assures him for the tenth time, managing a small smile. “It will get better. This is the hard part.”

“I hate that I can’t do anything,” Phil confesses softly, brushing his fingers over the back of her neck, lifting her hair to cool her skin. She sighs in relief at the air that touches her overheated neck, eyes slipping closed.

“You are doing something, Phil,” she replies, lifting one hand to touch his cheek. “Not many husbands do this; want to see this.”

“I wouldn’t leave you alone like this,” he seems indignant it would even be a suggestion, and her smile softens.

“And that means a lot to me,” she tells him, thumb stroking his cheekbone. “But I need you to go check on Daisy for me- I haven’t been able to spend as much time with her, and I feel horribly.”

“You’re sure you’re alright?” Phil asks, eyebrows creasing, and Melinda nods.

“I’ll be fine. I just feel nauseous, I don’t think I’ll be sick again. I’m just going to lay down in my rooms for a bit-“

“No- stay here. It’s cooler, you may be able to sleep a bit,” Phil says, helping her stand and holding her gently by the waist. “I’d feel better, knowing you were here.”

“Okay,” Melinda replied softly, and Phil pressed his lips to her forehead, pulling her against him as she let her eyes slip closed again, pressing her cheek to his chest. “Tell Daisy I’ll see her later, okay? I miss her, I just don’t want to tell her until we’re sure everything is okay.”

“Of course, I will. She’ll understand, Melinda,” Phil reassured her, stroking her hair back from her face, palms cupping her jaw lightly. “Get some rest.”

Melinda nodded, and Phil bent his head to brush his lips over hers gently before he departed.

She does manage to sleep for a few more hours, nose buried in furs that her husband’s scent clung to, and when she wakes, finds herself thankfully no longer nauseous. The sun is still high in the sky, and after splashing some water on her face, Melinda goes to find her family.

She’s passing by the nursery when she hears the laughter, and she pauses, glancing in the doorway.

Phil is on the ground, Daisy beside him, a few of her toys strewn across the floor. Their daughter is waving her hands animatedly, babbling loudly in a language only she understood- but Phil was listening intently, his focus entirely on Daisy.

Affection wells around her heart as Melinda watches them, Phil reaching out to tickle Daisy’s sides, eliciting high-pitched giggles from their daughter, her brunette curls tumbling as she leaned into him.

Daisy catches sight of her in the doorway, and delight etches itself in her tiny features, and she struggles to her knees.

“Mama!” she screeched, arms lifting and hands clenching and unclenching as she reached towards her.

“Hello my darling,” Melinda said, stepping into the room and bending to scoop Daisy up, smothering her in kisses and drawing more giggles from the toddler. “I’ve missed you so _much.”_

“Mama,” Daisy repeated, fingers curling in Melinda’s hair as she nestled herself into her arms, head on her shoulder. Melinda rubbed her back, kissing her head gently.

“How do you feel?” she looks up at Phil’s voice, his hand touching her back gently, and she smiles up at him.

“Much better,” she assures him, lifting a hand to touch his cheek gently. “You two had fun?”

“She’s very expressive- it’s incredible,” Phil’s face softens as he looks at Daisy, and Melinda’s knees go weak again at the look in his eyes. “Are you up to eating? It’s nearly supper.”

Melinda nods.

“I’m starving, all I can think about is food,” she confesses, and Phil laughs quietly, wrapping his arm around her as they head out of the nursery. Melinda transfers Daisy to his arms, their squirmy daughter a little too heavy for her; while there wasn’t too much change in her body yet, her breasts were already highly sensitive.

Dinner is again filled with laughter- they keep Daisy with them, rather than passing her off to Septa Danvers, and the guilt Melinda had been harboring at being unable to spend as much time with her daughter starts to ease. She marvels at how much Daisy has grown- she’s able to mostly feed herself, albeit messily, and she uses all her free air to continually make sounds, holding their attention.

When they’re done, Daisy’s face and dress are an absolute mess, and Melinda shakes her head fondly.

“Oh you are an absolute terror, Daisy,” she says, and Septa Danvers comes over.

“I’ll take her for a bath, milady,” she says, and Phil lifts Daisy up, settling her in the older woman’s arms. Melinda watches her go, contentment filling her, and jumps a little when Phil’s fingers twine with hers.

“Would you like to go for a walk?” he asks quietly, and Melinda nods after a moment, letting him pull her gently to her feet.

The sun has dipped below the horizon, the world drenched in oranges and reds of dusk, and Melinda shivers a little at the drop in temperature. Phil notices, and wraps his cloak around her shoulders; she buries her nose in the lining, his familiar scent wrapped around her.

“I know it’s been hard on you- this pregnancy,” Phil starts, and Melinda’s eyebrows furrow, their pace slowing as she listens to him talk. “And I want to help, but Peggy received word from one of the ports, and I’m needed there to deal with an issue involving pirates.”

“How long will you be gone?” Melinda asks, heart climbing to her throat, and Phil stops walking, squeezing her hands gently in his own.

“Less than two moons, if all goes well,” Phil assures her, and some relief fills Melinda’s chest. “But- I was wondering if you’d like to invite your sisters to stay with us, for a time? Tony and Maria will help as much as they can, of course, but- it’s been nearly two years since you’ve seen them. I know you want them to meet Daisy.”

“Oh, Phil- that would be perfect,” unbidden, tears come to Melinda’s eyes as emotion swells up inside of her, and she practically throws herself at Phil, crashing their mouths together messily.

He’s momentarily caught off guard, but he catches up quickly, hands gripping her waist and holding her tightly against him, kissing her deeply as her arms wrap around his neck.

“When must you leave?” she asks when they part, breathless, and Phil swallows before he answers.

“In a fortnight.”

“I think you should take me upstairs,” Melinda kisses him again, slower and with more heat than before, and she can feel him groan against her, fingers clutching her tighter.

The journey to his rooms takes longer than usual- Phil keeps pulling her into dark corners and kissing her, hands skimming up her sides, touching her to stoke the fire building inside of her. She’d learned- on her own, of course- that being pregnant increased her sensitivity, and every touch felt tenfold, the wetness between her legs a testament to it.

When they finally reach his rooms, Phil shuts the door and pushes her against it, blanketing his body over hers and kissing her fervently, tongue slipping into her mouth. Melinda moaned, arching into him, grasping at his tunic and attempting to get it off of him.

He groans, pulling away from her, and he looks at her for a long moment before he tucks some of her hair behind her ears.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, panting, and Melinda barely pauses before she nods. Phil kisses her again, and she goes to follow him- but he drops to his knees before her, rucking up the skirts of her dress.

“Phil, what are you-” she starts, just as his fingers hook in her smallclothes and tug them to the ground, leaving her lower half exposed to his gaze. Gooseflesh erupts over her skin, and she can _feel_ the wetness between her legs starting to drip in the cool air of the room.

Before she can speak again, Phil had one of her legs up over his shoulder, and he’d lowered his mouth to her sex- she cried out, cheeks turning red at the foreign touch. But then his tongue swiped over her clit, sending fire up her spine, her legs turning to jelly. She cried out, hips rocking into the motion, hands grasping for something to hold onto- Phil lifted one hand, twining their fingers together and gripping tightly.

The orgasm crashes down around her quicker than she’s ever experienced- she shakes through it, squeezing Phil’s hand tightly as she closes her eyes shut. His name escapes her lips in the filthiest moan she’s ever uttered, and when she can force her limbs to cooperate, she tugs Phil up to kiss her.

The taste of herself- foreign, but arousing- on his tongue has her tugging at his clothing until he’s bare, and together they shed her dress. All Melinda can think about is how much she wants him, and for the first time she pushes him onto the bed on his back, and positions herself atop him.

But the though won’t leave her alone, and even at the risk of spoiling the mood, she has to know.

“Where did you- learn that?” she asks, and Phil blinks, his blue eyes hazy with arousal. “Did- someone teach you?”

She doesn’t mean for the jealous tinge to enter her tone, but the thought that Phil had done that to someone else- anyone else, even someone he’d never see again- sets off something cold inside her.

Phil frowns, looking at her for a long moment before he shifts beneath her. He keeps her in his lap, but sits with his back against the headboard; he strokes her waist with gentle fingers, and looks at her for a long moment before he speaks.

“I must confess something to you, my lady,” he says, and Melinda feels her heart drop to her throat. “I know it’s frowned upon but…I wanted to please you, so I found some more- explicit texts. I read them in hopes that I wouldn’t disappoint you when I returned.”

Color rises in his cheeks, and Phil drops his gaze, but Melinda’s eyebrows contract, his words washing over her as she looks at him in confusion.

“Texts? You didn’t- sleep with anyone?” she asks, unable to feel ashamed of the way her voice lifts in pitch. Phil’s head snaps up, eyes wide.

“No! My lady, your bed is the only one I’ve ever entered, or ever will,” he tells her, and the conviction in his voice calms the writing green creature in her chest at last. “Is- is that what’s worried you?”

Melinda ducks her head, unable to answer- but Phil’s hands are gentle on her jaw, coaxing her gaze back up to his.

“You must know that you have my heart, Phil,” she says softly, palms resting on either side of the scar on his chest. His eyes widen, lips parting, and she can’t help but smile. She cups his cheek in her palm, stroking her thumb over his lower lip. “I love you.”

Time seems to stand still for the longest moment before Phil is tugging her down to him, kissing her hard; but she can feel the smile against her mouth, his hands sliding into her hair.

“I love you,” he gasps when they break, before he even draws more breath. Melinda smiles, pressed against him everywhere possible. She kissed him, sinking into it, and Phil rolled her onto her back, his palm flat over her abdomen.

“Let’s finish what we started,” she murmured, guiding his hand further down her body.

Neither of them got much sleep that night.

* * *

 

Melinda sends a letter to her family, inviting Joy and Laurel to spend some time at Providence with her, and sends it off with the postmaster the following day.

She also moves her things into Phil’s rooms- the reservations she’d held before no longer existed, and she didn’t want to any more distance from him. The simple pleasure of falling asleep in his arms and waking up to him kissing her shoulders is more than she’d ever thought she’d have, and she revels in it.

The time comes for Phil to leave for the port, and Melinda rises with him before the sun, helping him dress and watching him say goodbye to a sleeping Daisy. Two moons is nothing compared to the near year they were parted after their wedding, but it’s the longest Phil has been away from their daughter, and she can see how much it pains him to leave her- to leave them both.

“We’ll be fine,” she assures him, stroking his cheeks as he pulls her into an embrace, a footman readying his horse for the journey. “Joy and Laurel will be here in a fortnight, and you’ll return within a moon of that. Just stay safe. Come home to us.”

“There is nowhere I would rather be,” Phil tells her softly, his forehead falling to hers, and Melinda’s eyes sink shut as he kisses her. His hand rests briefly over her middle, and she covers it with her own; he brushes his lips over her forehead before he moves away, getting into the saddle and looking at the other men in his traveling party. With a nod from Phil they were off, and Melinda watched them until they disappeared over the hill where the sun was just starting to rise.

Melinda spends the next two weeks preparing the castle for her sisters’ arrival. She tries to explain to Daisy that her aunts were coming, but her daughter was too interested in attempting to pull herself to her feet- it was only a matter of time before she was up and walking, and Melinda couldn’t get over how fast her daughter was growing.

And she was growing too- her waistline had started to curve noticeably, her dresses no longer comfortable, and she knew she’d have to find the gowns she’d made when she’d been pregnant with Daisy once again. The exhaustion she felt seemed greater than her first pregnancy though- and she knew it was because now not only did she have the weight of Providence on her shoulders, but she had an active toddler who demanded her attention.

She’s with Peggy when Peter comes to find her, telling her a carriage had been spotted- delight crawls onto Melinda’s face, and she excuses herself, going to get Daisy so they can greet her sisters.

“Come on, my love. We’re going to meet my sisters,” she tells Daisy, who looks at her with wide eyes. She and Phil had been trying to explain the concept of siblings to their daughter- using Tony and Maria as examples- but it was hard to explain Joy and Laurel to her without them there.

Once they’re in the courtyard, Melinda sets Daisy down, instructing her to hold her hand tightly and to not let go. She smooths down her dress the best that she can- the deep blue fabric bumped out unmistakably, and though she hadn’t told her sisters in her letter that she was pregnant again, she knew they’d figure it out instantly.

The carriage pulls up, and as soon as it stops, two figures are out in an instant, and Melinda’s heart bursts at the sight of her sisters, face breaking out into a grin.

“Mellie!” they cry in unison, running towards her, and Septa Danvers steps forward to hold onto Daisy as they both crash into her- Melinda wraps her arms around them both, hugging them tightly as emotion swells inside of her.

Joy has grown taller, but it’s Laurel that looks so different- her face has lost its baby softness, her cheekbones more prominent, and she looks every bit the proper young lady Melinda knew she’d grow into. They’re here and she can’t looking at them, touching their cheeks as her eyes spill over with tears, joy flooding her body.

“Oh, Mel- she’s so beautiful,” Joy says, eyes on Daisy, and Melinda turns, beckoning her forward. On unsteady feet, Septa Danvers helps Daisy walk over to them, and Melinda carefully scoops her up, her daughter uncharacteristically shy in the presence of new people.

“Daisy- these are your aunts- Mama’s sisters. Joy, and Laurel,” Melinda points to each of them, and when both her sisters give soft, warm smiles, Daisy seems to relax just a little bit, and gives a tiny wave, lips curving into a toothy little grin.

“We are so excited to finally meet you, Daisy,” Laurel says, lips curved into a beaming grin, and Daisy lifted both her arms towards her- Melinda carefully passed her off, and Laurel cradled her niece to her chest, stroking her hair. Melinda straightened up a little, and Joy gave a soft little gasp.

“Melinda, are you pregnant?” she asks, eyes lighting up, and Melinda nods, smile softening as her hand came to rest against her stomach.

“That’s why I asked you to come. Phil was called away, and Daisy is a handful. I need some help,” she confesses, and Joy takes her hands.

“Nothing would make us happier, Mellie,” she tells her, and Melinda smiles, letting out a breath of relief.

“Come on- I’ll show you to your room and then we’ll give you a tour of the grounds,” Melinda tells them, already feeling lighter. She missed Phil, but her sisters were here- she’d be okay until he returned.

* * *

 

Time seems to pass more quickly now that her sisters were here- Daisy quickly became enraptured with them, following them everywhere. It helped eased some of the strain on Melinda as took on Phil’s role while he was at the coast, and she spent time with Peggy as the time harvest time crept up on them.

It felt like she blinked and two moons had passed; to her relief, Phil returns only a few weeks later than anticipated, bringing new toys for Daisy, and trinkets for her sisters.

“I’m so happy you’re home,” she tells him, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him tightly. Phil pressed his lips to her hair, hand sliding down to rest over the now-prominent swell of her middle.

“I missed you every moment I was away,” he murmurs, brushing his nose of hers gently before he kissed her, and Melinda sighed softly.

“And we missed you,” she replies, cupping his cheek. “Maester Pym said everything is progressing smoothly, only two moons left.”

“No more long trips, then,” Phil says, brushing her hair from her face and kissing her once more.

“Come on- Daisy’s inside with Joy and Laurel,” Melinda tugged on him, bringing him inside where their daughter waiting.

“Daddy!” Daisy’s excited scream echoes through the Great Hall, and Phil’s face creases into a grin as he swoops in, scooping Daisy up and smothering her with kisses.

“I missed you so much,” he tells her, and Daisy hugged him tightly, tiny head nestled under his chin as she snuggled into his chest.

“It’s good to see you again, Phil,” Joy says, smiling up at him, and Laurel waves, beaming.

“It’s wonderful to see you here,” Phil says, bending to kiss both their cheeks. “I hope the cold hasn’t been too terrible for you.”

“It’s a change from Riverrun, but I like it,” Laurel answers, picking up a roll and tearing it apart. Daisy perked up at the sound of food, scrambling to get down towards her aunt, and Melinda snorted, shaking her head fondly as her daughter immediately began stuffing her face with food.

“She is absolutely your child,” she tells Phil with amusement, and he merely watches Daisy proudly. “Come on, Peggy wanted to see you as soon as you got in, there’s an issue within the town that needs to be attended to.”

Phil drops a kiss to Daisy’s head before they leave, his hand at Melinda’s back, and her heart is so full with the knowledge that so many people she loved were all under one roof finally.

* * *

Her second labor is shockingly easy.

She awakens to excruciating lower back pain, and an instinctive knowledge that today was the day. She lets Phil sleep a little longer, and goes to her sisters, letting them know- they’d been due to depart that day, but she wanted them there- wanted them to be able to meet their new niece or nephew before they left.

Whereas her labor with Daisy had felt endless and painstakingly slow, this labor feels like a breeze- within the day she feels that massive pushing pressure, and Maester Pym tells her it’s time. She tries to tell Phil to go- no husband should see their wife like this- but he refuses, climbing in the bed behind her and giving her a solid force to lean against as she pushed, clutching Joy and Laurel’s hands.

Their second daughter enters the world screaming, and Melinda belatedly realizes Phil is crying too, his chest shaking against her as she falls back against him, exhausted.

“She’s beautiful,” he whispers, kissing her shoulder, and Melinda nods, smiling.

Once the baby is cleaned, Maester Pym carefully places her on Melinda’s chest; she squirms a little until she gets comfortable, settling down and snuffling quietly. Phil and Melinda watch her, enraptured, as Maester Pym finishes between Melinda’s legs, announcing quietly that she should try to feed her.

Shifting together, they adjust their new daughter until she can attach herself; and Phil watches in awe.

“We need to name her,” Melinda murmurs, watching her, and Phil leans his head against hers.

“You did so well with Daisy- do you have any ideas?” he asks, and Melinda thinks for a moment.

“What about Dorothy?” she suggests softly, lifting a hand to stroke over their daughter’s soft cheek. “Daisy and Dorothy.”

“It’s perfect,” Phil says, and Melinda smiles, turning her head to kiss him softly.

“Perhaps the next one will be a son,” she whispers, and Phil simply shakes his head, kissing her once more.


End file.
